


Swords

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21554590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto gets half a quickie.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Cor Leonis
Comments: 6
Kudos: 145





	Swords

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Cor Leonis is a monster on the battlefield and a daemon in the sheets, or a beast in his office chair with Prompto in his lap. Prompto’s _supposed_ to be doing the work, and he _tries_ , but every time Cor slams up into him, Prompto completely loses it. He topples forward into Cor’s chest, clutching onto Cor’s shoulders, and he trembles and tries not to scream. He’s fairly certain the Citadel has thick enough walls, but he doesn’t want to take the chance. He doesn’t want to get Cor in trouble. He knows he shouldn’t be riding Cor’s dick while Cor’s on the clock. 

But Cor’s dick is _awesome_ and Prompto wants it inside him as much as possible, so he shows up at bad times and begs and pleads until he gets what he wants. Cor usually resists, but sometimes he sighs, and Prompto gets his way. He gets to climb onto Cor’s strong thighs and lower himself down, then bounce up and down on the marshal’s cock with everything he has. 

If Prompto could, he’d do it forever. He wants Cor to pick him up and take him home, just like this, fuck him in bed, wake him up in the morning with a particularly hard thrust, then throw him across the table and eat breakfast off his stomach. But Prompto’s not so good with stamina. He’s _trying_. Sometimes Cor dryly teases about training him up, teaching him to last longer, and Prompto really does his best. He doesn’t want to disappoint his marshal. But Cor fucks him so good, so hard, so _deep_ , and he’s a crying mess in no time. 

The ruckus slapping sounds get worse. More lube slips out of Prompto’s ass, drizzling around his trembling thighs, staining Cor’s pants and his chair. Prompto gasps for air. Cor’s thick fingers close around his cock, and Prompto actually whimpers, because that’s not _fair_ —he can’t resist that. He doesn’t stand a chance. He bites down on his bottom lip, almost hard enough to hurt, trying desperately to hold back, but it’s no good. A few thrusts and Cor’s hands are closing around him, blocking his cum from splattering them both. 

Prompto rides Cor right through it, shaking and sobbing and just a mess of a human being. He finally slows, then stops all together. He slumps down into Cor and just _shakes_. He’s breathing so hard, sweating so much that his clothes are sticking to him. His ass feels gross. Cor gives it a light squeeze. 

Cor says, “Prompto,” plain and simple, and that’s enough. Prompto nods. He knows what he has to do. He pushes himself off of Cor’s thighs, wincing as Cor slips out of him. It feels like he’s left gaping open. He stumbles off of Cor’s lap and fumbles with his clothes. He can’t help staring at Cor’s dick, still rock hard and jutting up. Prompto wants to fall to his knees and bring Cor off too, but that’s not how it works. Cor tells him, “You’re getting better.”

Prompto blinks. “Really?”

“Yes.” Cor reaches for the box of tissues on his desk, wiping off his hands, and Prompto watches in numb detachment. He feels blissful, like he always does after an orgasm, but also still aching and _raw_ —he wants more. He knows it’s greedy. At least he’s flattered that Cor thinks he’s improving. 

Someday, he’ll be able to last long enough to get Cor off too. That’s the goal. Maybe then they’ll finally make it out of the Citadel.

Prompto knows it’s time to go. He swallows and says, “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. I had a great time.” That feels _so_ weird to say. But he’s not thinking clearly. It’s just sex. He should probably drop the ‘sir’ thing. Cor smiles thinly, which makes Prompto’s heart sharply constrict. 

Cor says, “We should get dinner sometime.”

Prompto’s eyes go a little wide. He opens his mouth but somehow manages to stop himself from spluttering how much he wants that. Badly. He just nods. Cor nods back: an effective dismissal.

Prompto’s supposed to go. But first, he bends down to kiss Cor’s cheek, and then he happily scampers off like the good boytoy he is.


End file.
